Saving Hope: Edited
by ylime92
Summary: Avengers AU - Steve is hurt whilst on a mission looking for an escaped Emil Blonsky. He's trying to re-create the serum used to create Steve's abilities. It causes a temporary reaction, slowing his healing to that of a regular person. He slips into a coma and has an outer body experience, leaving him to watch over his friends, his doctor and those who work and stay in the hospital.
1. Chapter 1

It seemed like the day was on her side as Dr Bethany Alexander stepped into the ER of the New York-Presbyterian Hospital and saw that only eight of the twenty-five beds were occupied. It wasn't that she didn't love being in The Pit, she did, it's where all the action was, where the most spectacular and out-of-nowhere-extraordinary cases come in, like the guy last week who had a rebar sticking out of his chest because he fell off a ladder on a construction site, now that was a fun case. Today, however, she just was not in the mood, she didn't get a chance to eat breakfast, other than the luke-warm cup of coffee she managed to steal off of one of the nurses and a bite of a graham cracker from the doctor's lounge. This added with the fact that she got a surprise wake-up call from her mother announcing that her latest gold-digging efforts was amounting in husband number four was the cherry on top of an already trying morning.

She wandered over to the nurses' station in the centre of the ER, sipping her coffee that by this time had already gone cold and tasted a little like Styrofoam. Nurse Cathy was sat behind the desk, organizing discharge papers and entering patients' details into the computer, trying to fill the time between the next admissions. She looked oddly serine from the usual chaos of the ER, _'calm before the storm'_, thought Beth.

"Hey, what are you doing? That doesn't need to be done until the end of the shift?" Beth stated, looking at the pile of files already filling up the desk in front of her friend.

"I know, I'm just not used to not having much to do, so I thought I'd grab a head start, better to do something than nothing I guess" Replied the other woman, placing a strand of strawberry-blonde hair back behind her ear "Just waiting for the call".

"The call? It seems pretty quiet today, doesn't look like anyone's going to call out at the moment" jested Dr Alexander, looking around the sparse ER, eyes casting over the perfectly set up observation divides and beds, not a drop of blood in sight.

"Oh, no…no, no, no. You do _not_; you never, _ever,_ say that in the ER. _Ever_! You jinxed it, whatever comes I next, that's on you my friend!" Cathy's look of disapproval was pronounced by the swing of her pony tail as she shook her head at the doctor standing in front of her.

"What's on who?" said a voice from behind. Beth turned to see the handsome face of Dr Craig O'Reilly, head of the Trauma Unit at NYP. He had a hard-look, probably from all of those years serving with the Army as a medic, and salt and pepper hair, which only made him more appealing, especially to the nurses who saw him as a real-life Dr Doug Ross from the TV show 'ER'.

"Oh, Doctor O'Reilly, before the shit hits the fan, I thought you'd like to know whose fault it's going to be when we're flooded with patients momentarily." Nurse Cathy said, slyly grinning at Beth, "She jinxed us."

"No!" Doctor O'Reilly said in mock horror, bringing his clipboard to his chest as if it was a hand over his heart, "Doctor Alexander, you should know better than that! You can't say the 'Q' word in the pit!"

Beth laughed at her superior's superstition; "Oh, come on, it's not as if it really does anything, like any second we're going to be flooded with trauma's or something, that's so unlikely-"

At that very moment the phone rang, and it wasn't the regular one either. It was the red one. The red phone was ringing. That only meant one thing: massive trauma. Cathy had picked up the phone, her face suddenly very serious, nodding and making agreeing sounds in all the right places. She put the receiver down on the latch, looks up and presses the big black button on the wall next to the desk; an alarm sounds and the lights flash, she starts ordering nurses to take patients who need immediate medical assistance upstairs to a different wing and all other patients to transfer to other hospitals in the area. She turns to the two doctors, who were still stood next to the desk in confusion and tells them;

"We have a high priority and profile case; I was ordered to clear the floor and let only the senior residents and selected staff in."

"What else? Did they describe the patient's symptoms?" Asked O'Reilly, his face, searching.

"Not much else, just that it was an emergency if a very sensitive nature and they needed the floor and all qualified personnel, I don't think it was an EMT on the line either" Said Cathy, her eyes looking towards the entrance to the ER.

The next few minutes pass in a blur of confusion and panic, the assembled senior and junior residents standing in their yellow over-covers and surgical gloves in the brisk February air. In front of them stands Chief of Surgery Olivia Stanton, looking, as ever, well put together, if not a little bristled, the rush of the situation it seemed couldn't even be avoided by their strong and fearless leader.

"Right, everyone" she stated loudly over the sound of instrument carts and hospital beds being moved around hurriedly behind them, "I know about as much as you do at this point. All I know is that we have a high profile and priority patient coming into our ER who is about 2 minutes out. I do not know the name, status or condition of our patient, but this has come from the very top. I want to see your finest work people, if there's a problem, see me directly. Doctor O'Reilly will be taking point on this one, follow his lead and let's show whoever these people are just why NYP is the best hospital in this city" With that Stanton places herself at the front of the crowd of doctors, and everything goes silent, waiting for the roar of sirens in the early morning dimness.

It was as if the whole hospital was holding its breath and let it out again as suddenly the sirens cold be heard blaring down the street and the squeal of tires on the road as the ambulance came to a halt in front of the ER doorway. Suddenly the back doors of the EMT truck were pushed open and a group of people, not only the paramedics jumped out, hovering over the still form of who could only be assumed to be their patient.

One of the EMT's started reeling off facts; "White male, approximately 30 years of age, multiple lacerations to the chest and abdomen, subdural bleeding, cracked or possibly broken ribs and a head injury. He's unresponsive. We had to bring him back twice on the way".

They managed to push past the two worried faces that came with their patent in the ambulance, getting him off the gurney and on to a bed. At face value, the guy looked fine, a little beaten up, but fine. He had a large gash to his right side that looked dark and sticky, definitely infected, along with dark patches of bruising all over his torso. His hands looked pretty knocked up too, gashes and scratches covered his knuckles and he had some deep lacerations to his forearms. His head injury was the main concern though. That was the kicker. The man looked peaceful, as if he were simply sleeping off a really bad fight, his olive skin shining under the surgical lights, and his light brown hair perfectly placed other than the matted clump where he obviously hit his head. Hard.

After inserting an IV and saline drip and taking his vitals, Beth suddenly started listening to the worried voices behind her, one of them sounding rather familiar. She turned around, and through all the commotion from nurses and doctors running around ordering medication, X-Rays and scans, was stopped dead in her tracks by the visage of non-other than…Tony Stark. Tony. Freaking. Stark. AKA Iron Man. Iron Man was stood in her ER, blood covering his probably million dollar suit, worry etched over his face. He turned to an equally distressed looking person, however, not quite as dishevelled as he, wearing a beautiful emerald green evening dress, her red hair still perfectly in place – Pepper Potts.

'_Oh my god! I have Tony Stark and Pepper Potts standing in my ER!'_ thought Beth, looking back at the injured man on the table, suddenly realising that she should really be concerning herself with him rather than the company he was keeping. At this point Doctor O'Reilly grabbed her elbow, dragging her over to the couple who were deep in conversation. Glancing an obviously panicked look at the Trauma surgeon, he gave a supportive nod and parked them in front of the most famous power couple in the world.

"Mr Stark, Miss Potts, my name is Doctor O'Reilly, I'm head of the Trauma Unit here at NYP, and this here is Doctor Alexander, Senior Resident. I understand this must be a trying time for you right now, but we need to ask you a few questions about our patient, his medical files are no help, for some reason most of it is redacted, even his name. I understand that what we're dealing with here may be stepping on sensitive grounds, but in order to be able to treat him to the best of our ability we need to know as much as we can. What exactly happened to him?"

"Well…" started Mr Stark, "I can't tell you _exactly_ what happened to him, it's kind of a long story, but the jist of it is he poked the bear and the bear got angry and then the bear punched him through a wall." He finished, nodding his head as if everything he said had just made perfect sense.

The doctors looked at each other with a look of great confusion, when Pepper finally broke the awkward silence saying;

"He got into a situation he couldn't handle by himself and was beaten pretty badly. He works for…well, let's just say the Army, who loans him out for specialist Government work. He's the best at what he does, but all you need to know is that the entire time we've known him; he's never been injured like this. He usually just gets up, walks it off, but this time…he didn't get up. There's going to be a lot of things we can't tell you, not because we don't want to but because we can't and you'll need to work around that. Can you do that?" The redhead had tears in her eyes, her voice broken but hopeful as she stared at the two doctors in front of her.

"We'll do our best Miss Potts" said O'Reilly, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder, "Now, one last question, what's your friend's name?"

Tony Stark, who had obviously been deep in thought, staring over at the bed in which his friend lay still, getting even more tubes and wires placed on him, looked up, his face, for the first time Beth had seen it, hard and serious said:

"Steve. Stephen. His name is Captain Stephen Rogers."

Not that she knew it, but this was the first, and certainly not the last time Doctor Bethany Alexander would meet Captain America.


	2. Chapter 2

Steve's POV:

Bright light, that was the first thing he saw, a white light that made his head hurt. Things fuzzily started to come into focus, there were people standing all around him, putting things on him, sticking him with needles, he could feel it, but wasn't in pain, he didn't understand.

'_Ah, morphine…' _he thinks, looking up to his left seeing a blurry outline of a clear liquid hanging from a metal rail, _'I must be in the hospital…how?...when did I get here?'_

He then hears someone calling his name, the voice is familiar but he can't remember who it is, it sounds like someone from his past…someone from another life… _'Howard? No…not Howard. His…son. Tony! Its Tony…he sounds upset. Why is Tony upset? I don't understand…' _

Suddenly there's another voice, it's calmer, closer, he turns his head to see a figure standing over him, the figure is blurry, but he can tell it's a woman, wearing blue, and she had dark hair. He tries to focus, squinting past the bright light, and the tiredness that is overcoming him, trying to tug him back to the warm, dark place he's just awoken from. He squints, lets his eyes focus and then, suddenly, he sees her. _'An Angel'. _

"Am I in heaven?" He rasps. Wait…he didn't mean to say that. Why did he say that?

The Angel smiled. "No Captain Rogers, you're in the hospital, you're injured, but we're going to take the best possible care of you alright?" She spoke. Her voice sounded like music.

'_No, why is she turning away?'_

The Angel was then replaced with possibly the least Angelic face he could imagine – Tony.

"Steve!...Steve, hey there bud, you gave us a bit of a scare there! Look, just because you don't wanna go to a charity gala doesn't mean you have to keel over on us alright? Could have just said-"

"Tony! It's alright Steve, you're okay now, and the doctors are going to take really good care of you. Just focus on getting better okay?" Interrupted Pepper, stroking his arm soothingly.

Pepper looked tired. Pepper hardly ever looked tired, even when she's running after Tony all day, and Tony, he was putting on a brave face, but Steve could tell he was worried and he had blood all over his suit.

'_My blood. That's all my blood?' _

He wanted to apologise to his friends, for making them worry, for ruining Tony's suit, for going in unprepared, for not listening to Bruce. But before he could say any of that, he felt that he was losing the battle with the warm darkness, he felt it creeping slowly up him until it reached his eyes, seeping in and drawing out the light.

"Steve! Steve…What's happening, _do_ something!" He heard Tony shout.

'_Why is he shouting?…I just need to sleep'_

"Captain Rogers, come on, stay with me! Push Epinephrine now! Come on, stay with me Captain Rogers!"

'_The Angel wants me to stay…but I can't, I'm so tired'_

That was the last thing Steve thought before slipping into oblivion, having no feeling whatsoever of almost 1000 volts coursing through his body and no recollection of the doctors and nurses above him having to restart his heart a further two times. He especially doesn't remember hearing the great Tony Stark, Iron Man, crying over the near death of Captain America.


	3. Chapter 3

SH Chapter 3:

Beth's POV

Doctor Bethany Alexander watched as the hot, black liquid miserably drizzled out of the staff room coffee machine and into the flaky Styrofoam cup, already breaking apart and sending tiny white flakes of plastic on to her sky blue scrubs. However, after nine hours on shift, she really didn't care that much. No, what she did care about is the fact that she had the Men in Black following her on her much needed break because apparently the doctor's lounge was 'beyond the containment perimeter' for her patient. Looking away from the drably dressed duo, she reminded herself of the mantra she'd had going in her head the past five hours since he coded;

'_He's stable, he's stable, he's stable'. _

Beth didn't think she'd ever worked so hard on a patient. Captain Stephen Rogers was one lucky guy. He lost almost 60% of his blood from deep lacerations that were now sceptic as he'd clearly tried to stich them up himself, had a major head wound and severe internal bleeding from what looked like a beating due to the fist shaped bruises forming on his abdomen.

'_Whatever this guy does for a living, I hope it's worth it.'_ She thought, picturing the last time she'd seen him before he was wheeled off for surgery. There were more people around him now than before, and unlike Tony Stark and Pepper Potts, Beth had no idea who these people were, she guessed colleges as they all looked well-built and muscular, save a nervous looking man in a suit, with mid-length dark hair and glasses. They all looked on with concern and another emotion that she couldn't put a handle on…anger perhaps? Whatever it was, she got the feeling that these people knew more about what happened to Captain Rogers than the staff did. There was another look that they all shared, hovering around him, everyone touching just a little bit of him. They looked…lost. Like they were waiting for him to wake up and tell them what to do. She's felt the same after she made Senior Resident, for the first time she was looked to for answers; she had interns to teach and patients to look after all by herself, she couldn't depend on her superiors for answers anymore…they looked like they needed an answer, one that she just couldn't give them.

Beth sighed, turning back to the doorway to find the dark suited men watching her. She nodded and they lead her out of the hallway and back through the heavily guarded doors of the ICU where they were waiting for Captain Rogers to get out of surgery and get him into recovery. After that, it was out of her hands. Apparently there was some specialist team that either Stark or whoever the black-suits worked for had called in, she assumed the Government.

'_Well, Miss Potts did say he worked for the Army…' _She thought nervously, sideways glancing at the two men flanking her on either side, looking as if they were going to tackle her to the ground at any moment. She walked into the ICU hallway, downing the rest of her espresso and entering room 2403 – NYP's version of the Presidential Suite. There was a mixture of her staff and the other medical team, trading notes and charts on Captain Rogers' case, her staff looking on with confusion and trepidation whilst the others had a look of cool knowing, a look that Beth could only describe as cold. She was approached by one of the doctors, wearing a pristine lab coat over a starch white shirt, pressed trousers and silk tie, his expensive looking shoes glinting in the overhead lighting. He plastered on a smile as he walked closer to Beth, extending a perfectly manicured hand.

"Hello, I'm Doctor Beckford, I will be taking over Captain Rogers' treatment from here on out, I just wanted to go over your care of him starting from the moment he was brought in." He said in a falsely happy tone, adding an extra smile to the end of his statement as if to assure his credence.

"Well…I'm only a Resident, I think the person you should be talking to is Doctor O'Reilly, and he was on point for Captain Rogers' care and has more seniority than myself." Beth said, confused to why they would be calling her in rather than her boss.

"We already have Doctor Alexander, but we have gathered from other reports you've spent the most face time with the patient than other doctors, according to his charts you even resuscitated him." Beckford said, glancing down at a very high tech looking tablet, flicking his finger across the screen showing Captain Roger's stats.

"Twice, actually, all in all he's coded four times in the last 10 hours; he's a bit of medical miracle!" Beth replied, trying to keep the atmosphere light, he did after all survive V-Fib four times, at least that was something to celebrate.

At that moment Doctor Beckford looked at Beth for a long while as if she's said something she shouldn't had, his eyes tracing over he face for something that she didn't understand and when he was apparently trough with this, simply said; "Yes, Quite" and continued to question her about treating the Captain.

After the other doctor had left her standing in the middle of room 2403, she felt a hand on her shoulder that made her jump slightly. Turning quickly, she sees a face she'd been longing to see all shift; Jason Levi, her best friend/room-mate/over-all-life-fixer. We was looking just about as tired as she felt, his green nurses scrubs creased from carrying trays of instruments and supplies to the floor that had been bought out especially for the private care of Captain Rogers.

"Oh, babe, don't worry they've got us all like that! I've been looking over my shoulder since they wheeled the guy in here, I keep on having the urge to confess something I haven't done, either that or burst into spontaneous tears – that's normal right?" Hearing Jason's sarcastic attitude lifted Beth's sullen mood slightly, giving him a small smile.

"With this patient, I don't even remember what normal is anymore! I mean, he comes in and we have to evacuate the entire ER, he's beaten to a pulp with injuries he'd obviously tried to treat himself, codes twice on the way here and when he arrives as Tony freaking Stark and Pepper Potts crying by his bedside and then the Men in Black invade the hospital keeping us in the dark about everything. Did you see the guy's file? It was almost totally redacted!" Beth rants, feeling a little of the tension from the past few hours draining out of her.

"Ooh, maybe he's a spy!" Conspired Jason, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

"At this point you could say he was Superman and I would believe you, y'know those guys actually followed me into the bathroom?"

"Aw, jealous, a couple of these guys are hot, I wouldn't mind them following me into the bathroom if you know what I mean" Jason added with a wink, only making Beth's smile grow wider.

"Eww! Jase you're so gross, and inappropriate…but yes, I know what you mean." Suddenly her pager went off, along with everyone else in the room. "Well, it looks like this is nearly all over for us, I don't think we'll need you around for this Jase, the patient's coming into recovery now, I'll see you at home ok?"

The nurse nodded, giving her one last squeeze on the shoulder before making his way out through the barricade of dark suited agents lining the doorway. Moments later, there was a flurry of movement as Captain Rogers was brought into the ICU by the surgeons and handed off to the mystery doctors. O'Reilly appeared from the OR hallway, taking off his scrub cap and making his way over to Beth, chart in hand.

"The surgery was a success, we managed to stop him from haemorrhaging, but it took longer than expected due to all the internal damage. Had Neuro go in and relieve some pressure from the swelling of the cranial bleed, but other than that no lasting damage. The only problem is, with all this stress on his body, he slipped into a coma as we were closing him up, the only thing we can think of is the body is temporarily shutting down to let itself recover. Poor kid. He's got a way to go yet. I've got to get cleaned up and sigh off on some things, will you be okay to talk to his family?"

Beth nodded, taking the chart and giving it a once over before making her way out into the ICU waiting area that had also been cleared, save the gathering of people waiting to hear about Captain Rogers' condition, and the smartly suited people placed either side of all exits. She had talked to patients families all the time, it never gets any easier, and for some reason, this one seemed harder than ever before.

"Hello, my name is Doctor Alexander, I was part of his emergency on-call trauma team. I am pleased to tell you that Captain Rogers-

"-Steve, his name is Steve" Inturrupts Mr Stark.

"-Steve…sorry, Steve's surgery was a success. The surgeons managed to stop the internal bleeding and stitch up the deep lacerations to his upper body. We also had a neurosurgeon go in and relive some pressure that had built up around Steve's spinal cord, due to the blow to his head, which had now been normalised. However, there was one complication. When they were closing him up and prepping him for recovery, he slipped into what is known as Toxic-metabolic encephalopathy, which is a common reaction to stress and pain on the body.

"-I'm sorry what, he in a what?" Interrupted another man, he was stocky, like a wrestler with a string jaw line and constant frown.

"It's a type of coma…I know that that seems like something worse to happen to someone who has already gone through a lot, but I can assure you this is not uncommon, especially in patients who have suffered as much physical trauma as Steve has. It's basically his body taking a power nap, re-energizing after the toll of the injury, resuscitation and the surgery. He's been under a lot of stress and needs to rest now. I'm sure that the new medical team are going to take excellent care of him. If there's anything I can do for either you, or Captain Roger's, please let me know."

"Thank-you doctor, we will" said Pepper, her eyes tired and filled with tears.

Beth gave the group a small, sympathetic smile before heading back to the ER to hand in her paperwork and then head home. The very thought of seeing her apartment again, let alone her bed was comforting, but she still couldn't shake the feeling that she should be doing something more for Captain Rogers, even though, medically, they'd done everything they possibly could for him.

After saying goodnight to Cathy, who repeated several times that she was going to quit her job after the shift they'd just had, Beth headed out the ER doors that brought in so much drama that day, passing in between, two smartly dressed men in sunglasses who probably knew more about the mysterious Captain Stephen Rogers than she did.


	4. Chapter 4

Hi everyone. I just want to take this opportunity to say thanks for reading this! I've never posted anything on here before and I have really enjoyed writing this so far, I've got a lot more story in me yet. Feel free to review and message me with any questions, or suggestions to how you think this story should go, I'll try to take them into consideration. Thanks again, Em x

Steve's POV:

Steve had always been a spiritual guy. He'd gone to church every Sunday with his mother until she died and then was raised by Nuns in a home until he was eighteen. He thought he had some kind of understanding about what happened after you die…he thought. That was until he found himself wandering the hallways of a hospital he'd never been to before, being rudely ignored by everyone around him. He knew times and customs had changed, and New Yorker's had always been a resilient bunch, but this was just plain ridiculous!

He remembered waking up in a hospital bed, and he made an ass out of himself in front of that lady-doctor, as usual, but he couldn't remember how he got out here…maybe he was more hurt than he realized? Maybe he had some kind of head injury from the fight that left him with memory loss?

'_Surely if I'm still here, than Tony and Pepper are? They wouldn't just leave me here…'_

Steve wondered around the labyrinth of hallways of the hospital, reading the direction signs on the walls as he went. He never remembered hospitals being so big and crowded, the last time he was in a public hospital was when he was conscripted, the first time, other than that it was military bases, secret labs, S.H.I.E.L.D facilities and then finally the Medical Wing Tony had installed in Stark – no, 'Avengers Tower', as he now liked to call it, after his unfortunate side effects of his worm hole experience and Pepper's subsequent…heat problem, whatever that really was. The hallways were bustling with activity, nurses and doctors exchanging charts, patients sat in uncomfortable looking chairs waiting to be seen, people walking in and out of observation rooms, the place was maddeningly busy. He was sure he'd walked around the same block of departments several times now and was getting more and more frustrated when nobody would tell him which way it was to the ER… the last place he remembered being, the last place he remembered seeing Tony and Pepper.

'_Oncology…Dermatology…Haematology…Neurology…'_

Steve didn't have the faintest clue what half of these departments were, but just knew that they weren't where he was supposed to go. Walking around a further couple of times, he knocked into an elderly looking man in a dark grey suit and tweed over-coat.

"I'm so sorry! Really sir, sorry, I should have been paying more attention" he stammers, holding the man upright by his shoulders and placing a glance to the nearest wall sign.

"Oh, don't worry about it son" the older man said with a smile in his voice, "you're lookin' a little lost, need help finding your way? I know this place like the back of my hand!"

'_Finally, someone helpful!'_ Steve thought, "Yeah, actually, I think I'm having some kind of reaction, or memory loss, I can't seem to remember where I'm meant to be…" he looks around for any sign of Tony, Pepper, anyone really who could be of help to him.

"Son, if I were you I'd look in the ICU, a strapping guy like yourself isn't going to be found anywhere else!" said the old man with a smile, swinging a mock punch to one of Steve's biceps, making him blush slightly. "It's one floor up, through two sets of double doors. I hope you find what you're looking for son."

Steve turns towards the stairwell the man had just pointed at, "Thanks, so much I…"

Turning back around the older man is nowhere to be seen, as if he just vanished into thin air.

'_I'm sure he just had an appointment…somewhere…" _Steve thought, a strange feeling creeping up his shoulders.

Making his way up to the next floor, the feeling creeping over him settles all over, as if he was being dragged somewhere he didn't really want to go. He realizes he must be in the right place, as now S.H.E.I.L.D agents flank each door of the hallway, looking straight ahead as he walks by, a small smile playing on his lips at the seriousness of the agents.

'_Man, Coulson really drums it into them…'_ a feeling of relief filling him at the thought of seeing his team again, getting sorted, and heading home. He then sees a familiar figure through the glass, Clint Barton, leaning against the doorway of a room half way along the hallway, sipping a cup of coffee and frowning, as usual. As he walks closer, he sees Natasha come out and place a hand on his shoulder, taking the cup from his hand and taking a drag, her face impassive as she handed it back to him, however, the look in her eyes says something different, she looked worried, on edge. Suddenly Steve feels guilty about just walking off, leaving his friends back at his room; they were probably trying to find him, after all, it wasn't normal, the fact he wasn't healing last night, they probably thought something was really wrong.

Stepping through the second set of double doors and into the hallway, he expected the two spies to turn at the sound of his entrance, expecting Clint to say something mildly sarcastic about his mental capacities because he's an 'old man' and a chilling look of reprise from Natasha, but nothing happened, the pair continued to talk in hushed voices, not looking up even when he was directly in front of them…something was wrong. It was as if they couldn't even see him. He tried placing a hand on Natasha's shoulder to catch her attention, but he couldn't do it, it was as if he were a magnet trying to match two positives, each times he pushed harder against it, the harder it repelled him.

'_I must be hallucinating or something, maybe it's a dream?' _Steve thought, stepping into the shaft of light emanating from the doorway, he could hear more hushed voices and the incessant blinking of monitors. As he faced the room and stepped past the thresh-hold, he was immediately frozen. He could see Tony and Pepper sitting directly in front of him, holding hands and quietly talking, Pepper's head on Tony's shoulder, Tony gently stroking her hair as he spoke. Next he could see Thor and Darcy, leaning in the corner looking pensive, Jane and Bruce huddled next to each other around a chart, pointing at markings, Jane's eyes wild and bright, Bruce taking off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose, a telling sign that he was reaching his limit. Then there was Coulson, looking tired, still suited up, but with his jacket thrown half-hazardly over the back of the chair, the sleeves of his white cotton shirt rolled up and tie loosened – the most relaxed and simultaneously stressed he's ever seen him. Lastly, Steve saw a figure lying in a hospital bed in the center of the room. He looked pale and sickly, dark rings under his closed eyes, hair matted and dark with sweat. He had needles and wires coming out of nearly every space of showing skin, angry red blotches of scarring staining his olive skin. What wasn't a bruise or scrape was covered in bandages, already showing shadows of pooling blood underneath them. He then realized why the figure looked so familiar:

'_It's…Me.'_

"Oh my God." Proclaimed Steve, the only words he could form at the sight of himself, laying there, broken.

"_I can't be dead, my heart's still beating, I can hear it on the monitor…then why am I like this? This can't be happening?'_

Steve walked around the room, trying to get close to any of the people he called family, but like before with Clint and Natasha, was immediately rebuffed. He tried shouting, screaming, waving his arms around like a mad man, but nothing happened. He was stuck. Stuck out of his own body where nobody could see nor hear him. He was alone.

"This can't be happening" Steve stated again in denial.

"Oh it's happening alright son, sorry to tell you!" said a familiar voice.

Steve turned, seeing the elderly man he'd ran into before. He was leaning against the door frame opposite Clint, wearing a small, sad smile.

"Am I…dead?" asked Steve, looking at the man with reproach.

"No! no, you m'boy are in a coma, very strange though usually you guys stay in your bodies, I guess it was when you died those couple of times it sent you out here…" He said, eyes wandering over to Steve's immobile body.

"I died! But you just said-"

"I know what I said, there's a difference to dying and being dead y'know! You were resuscitated, four times, I guess you're body isn't strong enough to have you inside at the moment." The older man said, his voice raised and stern, reminding Steve of his old English professor from his school days.

"What do you mean, not strong enough to have me in it? How...why am I here?" He asked, searching.

"Well, from what I've gathered of my time here, sometimes the body can't cope with the other part of it, some call it the soul, some the subconscious, some the mind, being stuck in there and telling it what to do all the time so it sort of…expels it for a while, until it's strong enough to let it back in. And as for you clear existential question, I don't know, who do I look like, Buddha? I don't know! Maybe you should talk to a professional? Ah, speaking of…"

Just on cue, Dr Bethany Alexander walks through the doors of room 2304, chart in hand and is greeted with a room full of very worried, and angry looking people. She nods a small smile at all of them, and replaces the chart in the hands of Dr Banner with her one.

"I thought you'd like to be kept up to date; I'm just delivering Captain Roger's latest chart and a new morphine drip to keep him comfortable." Her voice is calming and familiar to Steve, she moves to past him and starts fixing the morphine onto the rail on the left hand side of Steve's bed. Steve then moves to stand behind Coulson, looking at Dr Alexander with curiosity, he feels like he knows her, like they're somehow connected and yet he can't remember ever meeting her. She has her dark hair tied up in a loose knot at the back of her head letting sift wisps drift around her heart shaped face. Her complexion is clear and fair, the hint of a blush at her cheeks. She's wearing a lab coat with her name in dark blue stitching above the right hand breast pocket over sky blue hospital scrubs. She's gentle when she lifts Steve's arm to take out his IV and replace it with a new one, carefully sticking a small band-aid over the track and running over it with her thumb. She places her small hand on his forehead, checking his temperature and wiping away some strands of hair stuck to his skin. She gives one final look at him and then turns to the room, his visitors all watching her, both in curiosity and suspicion, they just functioned that way.

'_It's the Angel…'_ Steve thinks

"Just to let you know that this will be my last time treating Captain Rogers-"Dr Alexander started.

"-Steve" Tony interrupted. Again.

"-Steve, my apologies. I Have spoken to Dr Beckford who from here on out will be handling Steve's case and he assured me that under his team's supervision he's going to get the best care possible. Now if there's anything you need, any questions that you'd like to ask me now would be the time, not that Dr Beckford wouldn't be able to answer them, but out of the doctor's here on the Trauma team, I probably spent the most time with him." Beth finishes, nervously looking around the room at the somber faces of her patient's visitors.

"Yeah, um…how long do these comas usually last? I mean, Steve's a pretty healthy guy, so, it won't last that long…right?" asked Darcy, twirling a strand of chocolate brown hair around her finger, looking over at Steve's near motionless body.

"Well, comas are pretty mysterious things; the human mind is too actually, it's really the only uncharted territory medically speaking. We won't know for a few days whether the coma was a reaction to his head injury or the general stress on Steve's body due to his injuries. But you're right, he's young, he's healthy and I'm pretty certain that he'll make a full recovery when he's good and ready." She finishes with a warming smile.

"Good and ready?" Tony repeats loudly,

'_Oh, here we go'_ thinks Steve rolling his eyes at his friend

"Good and ready? Isn't there some way to wake him up now? A scan or a test you can run to see why he won't wake up?"

"Mr Stark, I know it's frustrating, but the fact of the matter is you can't rush things like this. Steve is not running on my schedule, or Dr Beckford's should I say, we're running on his. Steve's body has shut down as a result of him coming under attack; it's a natural and basic form of self-preservation. If we try and push it, the farther away he might be to actually waking up. It's very early days yet, we can't run any scans until 12 hours after the surgery, to give him time to settle. You should know more then. If that's all I'll leave you guys to it, the wing is all yours until Steve is able to be moved to your private facility. I wish you all the best."

There were a few quiet murmurs of thanks as Dr Alexander left the room, turning one last time to look at Steve. As she walked away, Steve felt a pang of loss, one he didn't really understand, an ache that left him a little hollow. His hand rubbed at his chest, the older man noticed.

"Feeling something?" he questioned, a sly smile on his face.

"Yeah…it's like…I don't know…like-"

"Like you've lost something and you don't know where you put it?" He finished. "I thought this might have happened."

"What? What's happened?" Steve asked, his eyes going back to the doorway the doctor just walked out of.

"You've connected yourself to her, the last person you saw before you died, she brought you back to life, she's the one who grounded you here…she's your Anchor." The old man stared at Steve, a look of wonder and curiosity in his eyes behind his horn-rimmed glasses.

'_My Anchor?' _Steve thought, "What the hell does that mean?"

"It means you can probably leave the hospital, which is very rare, most of us are stuck here, trapped until we move on, although you'll only be able to go where she goes. You don't have to walk anywhere y'know, you can just sort of…go there, you just have to think about it. My guess, if she's the one who's keeping you here, she's the one who can let you go."

"Let me go? Like…I'll die?" Steve asks, looking back at himself in bed.

"I dunno kid, either that or you'll go back to your body, I really don't know, both of them are better than your current situation." He said, taking off his glasses and wiping them on his bobbly old sweater.

"Wait…you said, most of us…are there more, like us? Stuck?"

"Oh yeah! Loads of us, sometimes they stay for a second, sometimes a day, or sometimes years, like me. Don't forget kid, this is a hospital, people die here every day!" The man stated, holding out his hands for exaggeration.

"Years? I could be stuck like this for years? How long have you been here?" Steve asked desperately.

"Didn't you listen to what that nice lady-doctor said? She said you're young and healthy, despite your current predicament, you'll be right as rain in no time! Me, meh, I was old, I was cranky, I had a stroke. Two days after my 70th birthday. It's my own fault, I know that, doctors told me I should have quit smoking years before, did I listen…no, and look where that got me, my body six feet under in Brooklyn Cemetery and my what-ever-the-hell-I-am here, stuck for nearly ten years!"

'_Ten Years…'_ Thought Steve. He couldn't bear to be asleep, again for another 10 years.

'Anyway kid, I'm Artie, Artie Hopper, whenever you need me, just call; I gotta get down to the Morgue to meet another new arrival. It was nice to meet'cha." He said with a wave.

"Yeah, nice meeting you too, I guess…" Said Steve quietly.

"Oh kid, before I go, how'd you get here anyway, to the hospital, you look pretty beat up." Artie asked, his head popping around the door.

"I don't think you'd believe me if I told you" Steve said flatly, his mind thinking back to the Avenger's last mission. To thumping heartbeats, a cold warehouse, a monster and one, big, green fist.


	5. Chapter 5

Sorry for the super long chapter – I just wanted the explanation for Steve's injuries to be as thorough as possible! Enjoy! Em x

Steve's POV:

24 Hours Earlier…

It had been a relatively quiet day at 'Avengers HQ', Tasha and Clint had been called off for training at S.H.E.I.L.D, Tony and Dr Banner had been experimenting on…something in R&D with Jane, Darcy and Thor, not that Steve thought the Demi-God had any actual scientific input on the matter whatsoever and Pepper was away on a business trip for Stark Industries somewhere half-way around the world, expected to back for some charity gala he'd promised Tony he'd attend with him and Pepper in place of Thor, as that really didn't go down too well before. Despite the popularity of Captain America, Steve still managed some privacy, especially in the face of the press _'thank god for that ugly cowl'. _For some reason Tony had thought it a good idea to invite Thor as an 'ambassador' to Earth from Asgard, attending the annual Policemen's Gala…however, someone challenged him to an arm-wrestling match which amounted to over $100,000 in damages, so, he was never, ever again invited to another public occasion. The spies Barton and Romanoff were too suspicious to be seen at any events, and, like Steve, managed to remain some animosity, and Dr Banner, well, nobody knew who he was when he wasn't all…green. So the burden fell to Steve who had to shake hands with celebrities and campaign runners, smile for photographs and suffer through the endless flirting of random women. It's not that he didn't enjoy the attention, after 70 years on ice it was nice to get out there again, especially after Peggy, but these women weren't what he was used to; at times it was all still a little overwhelming.

And so the rather uneventful afternoon found him sat at the breakfast bar of the common area on the 127th floor of Avengers Tower flipping through random pages of the text books Coulson had given him as part of his re-integration programme, which Darcy had described as Steve 'getting with the times and becoming 'current', not that he had any idea what that meant. Some of the topics he had covered had been very interesting; the moon landing for example, he was so jealous of those around him who actually got to witness it on TV…let alone witness a TV for the first time; now they were everywhere, thin, plastic flat things, ipods, iphones, ipads, screens that with a single touch can do basically anything. One of the first things Tony taught him how to use was his phone, which Tony said was a 'state of the art StarkPhone', it had everything on it and yet the only thing he actually uses it for is for calls, and the occasional text, however the only people who ever really texted him were Darcy and Tony, both to annoy him really, never actually having anything important to say.

Looking out on the impressive panorama in front of him, he could see just from the skyline of his home city how much the times had changed. The buildings got bigger, taller, more high-tech (Tony's self-sufficient tower being an example), the mid-morning sun glimmering off millions of darkly coloured glass windows. From here you could almost see Brooklyn, the faint hue of brown cobblestone and the small square blocks of three-storey walk ups. He's been back there, only once to his old neighbourhood, which had both changed completely at not at all, it gave him an ache in his chest that made him think of too many things; his mother, Bucky, Peggy, Howard, Dr Erskine…people from another life. A sharp ringing sound startled Steve from his past and back to the present, picking up his phone he checked the ID and saw it was his favourite S.H.E.I.L.D agent on the line;

"Agent Coulson, what can I do for you?" Steve asked, his tone suddenly serious, Coulson never called unless it was something important.

"Captain, we have a situation, Agents Romanoff, Barton and I are on our way to you, I'll explain more when were there, it's not something to discuss over the phone." Replied Coulson in his usual short and to the point as usual.

"Right, I'll make sure everyone's in the conference room when you arrive."

"Good, see you in a few Captain". The line went dead and Steve, out of habit looked to the ceiling before speaking to JARVIS:

"JARVIS, can you make sure that the others got Coulson's message there's a situation and I need the team assembled in the conference room ASAP."

"Of Course Captain Rogers" replied the automated voice politely "I'll make sure everyone is there in two minutes."

Steve then made his away across the large expanse of the communal floor to the elevator, which then took him up two levels to the Command Centre, which had a full communications deck, armoury, training facility and the conference room, where they would meet before every mission to strategize. Despite the fact that this floor was for the team as a whole, Tony's influence could be seen everywhere; super-high tech gadgetry lined the walls, every surface had some kind of technological interface or capability and nearly everything was either black carbon fibre or 'Iron Man Red' as he called it. He finally reached the conference room, already finding Darcy, Jane and Thor inside, sat together on the opposite side of the table in deep, black leather office chairs. The files were already open on the computerized table, the other three scrolling down the notes in preparation; however, Darcy slid a good old fashioned manilla folder across to Steve with a wink, muttering something about 'old school' under her breath.

Steve opened up the file, looking at page after page of complex equations and numbers that made his head hurt just trying to comprehend what it even related to. Scanning a few paragraphs he noticed a few choice phrases that he was all too familiar with; 'Gamma radiation', 'Super Soldier Serum' and 'The Hulk'. Glancing up at Bruce, Steve saw the good doctor frowning behind his glasses, hands coursing across his five o'clock shadow in contemplation; he could only imagine how difficult a situation this must be for him. From what he could understand a man by the name of General Ross forced an experimentation of the super soldier serum created by Dr Erskine and Gamma Radiation on a volunteer named Emil Blonsky, a Russian born, decorated Captain of the Royal Marines. However, the serum does not take the way it did to Banner, in which he has some relative control over the Hulk, Blonsky had seemingly no control over himself when he transformed into what was only described as an 'Abomination'. Blonsky was detained by S.H.E.I.L.D with the help of the Hulk, shortly before Banner's disappearance until only last year. However, it appeared that in captivity, Blonsky had escaped and now the Abomination was wreaking chaos on a specialist facility in the Nevada Desert.

The entrance of Clint and Coulson pulled Steve's attention from the file, followed by an irate looking Tony being dragged into the room by his ear lobe by Natasha who seemed determined, yet amused. Coulson stood in front, placing his StarkPad on the tech table, watching dead-pan as an angry roar filled the room, followed by a hologram of an ugly, grey beast swinging black-clad agents through the thick concrete walls of the detainment facility. The creature was deformed looking, not like the Hulk, who still held certain physical traits of his softly-spoken alter ego, and showed no grasp of human emotion or morals what-so-ever.

'_Gees, we thought the Hulk was hard to control'_ Steve thought, wincing as it mercilessly crushed three highly trained and decorated agents in the palm of its hand.

"This is the last footage we have of Emil Blonsky, AKA 'The Abomination'. Right now we have him contained within the facility, but we can't be sure how much longer it'll hold with the rampage he's been going on. We've lost all communication; he's wiped out most of the control deck so at this point it's a matter of hours before this situation is dangerous to the public." Coulson stated in his usual nonchalant tone.

"This creature will be no match for Banner and I" stated Thor proudly, "I am sure that between us he will have met his match" He nodded towards Bruce who gave the Demi-God an uneasy smile, nervously tapping the images in front of him.

"I'm not so sure Thor, the last time you said that I kind of threw you into a fighter jet, and killed the entire crew of the Hover-Craft… Bruce stammered awkwardly, letting the statement lie dormant for a few moments before continuing; and the last time The Other Guy and Blonsky met, well…we kind of…broke Harlem and the last time I was in the desert, General Ross tried to nuke me out of existence".

"Well, fortunately for you Dr Banner, General Ross was detained this morning by Agents Barton and Romanoff, so there won't be any unscheduled nuclear fiascos as long as we have any say in it, and the facility was purposely built in the middle of nowhere in case a situation such as this ever arose. I believe that with the help of the team, The Hulk can get Blonsky into a position to which we can properly…exterminate the situation". Coulson continued, his eyes shifting around the table to each of the Avengers.

"You mean, kill him, we're going to kill Blonsky?" Steve interjected.

"If necessary yes we will be exterminating a threat, one that has already taken the lives of nearly thirty S.H.I.E.L.D Agents" He replied shortly, obviously surprised by Steve's objection.

"Isn't this the exact mentality of those who wanted the Hulk 'exterminated' all those years ago? Is there no other way to do this without killing him?"

"I'm sorry…are you saying that _thing _and Bruce are the same? Because, soldier boy, if you haven't noticed, Bruce has a little something called _control, _if Blonsky had maybe tried that then he wouldn't be in this situation now." Tony said incredulously, peering over his sunglasses at Steve.

"No, no of course I'm not saying they're the same, I'm saying that the situation is similar, have you thought that perhaps Blonsky is in this particular situation because he can't control it the way Dr Banner can?" Steve asked, getting more and more agitated. Looking around the room he could see he was fighting a losing battle, usually he was the one giving the orders, they'd go in with minimal force and only strike when needed, he didn't need or want any more causalities than usual and to him, Blonsky was an unneeded casualty.

"Look, the way I see it" started Clint, "the guy has a previous record of violence, he joined the Amy to kill and he joined the programme to kill, proven by the fact he killed - hundreds of people. It's gone too far; he needs to be taken out."

"I hate to agree with it Steve, but they're right. I know this guy, I've seen what he's done. He is fully aware up there" Bruce sighed, taping the side of his head gently, "He knows what he's doing. Ha can only be stopped with like force and as much as I hate to say it, I think the Other- the Hulk could be useful on this one".

"Yeah! That's how you strut it big guy!" shouted Tony excitably across the table, extending an open pal across the table in an un-answered high-five from the scientist.

Soon after, Coulson called an end to the meeting and the team assembled their gear, checking and re-checking while Natasha fired up the jet. Tony was already suited up save for his helmet as he joined Steve in the carrier, giving his back a solid, metal thwack;

"Don't sweat it Cap, we'll be in and out in no time and then Pep will have you spinning on the dance floor in no time". Steve didn't know what was more horrifying the 'Abomination' or the idea of publically dancing in an uncomfortable thousand dollar suit in front of hundreds of strangers.

Technically the plan was good; Bruce, Thor and Tony would go in on point, Iron Man and Thor would give him a beating before Bruce unleashed the Hulk who would lead him away from the facility North of Las Vegas and then He, Clint and Natasha would drop as much ammunition as they could carry on him, obliterating the target. However, Steve just had a gut feeling; if he was able to communicate with the Hulk, than surely he could talk down Blonky, an ex-soldier, a war hero. The whole reason he was in this mess to begin with was due to orders from General Ross, he was injured, angry, he wanted revenge and the whole thing got too big for him; he understood how he felt in a way; although his own experimentation had a much more appealing ending. Somehow he just knew that there was a different scenario that could be at play here, one the other didn't see, even Dr Banner.

In under 30 minutes the jet landed outside the facility, Tony and Thor flying overhead to start the first phase of the mission whilst Bruce did his pre-Hulk-out warm up – essentially he waited for maybe 50 seconds or so, balled up his fists and screamed, gradually tearing out of his former self and into the huge, green rage monster. The Hulk turned towards the Cap, who unsurely spoke Hulk's favourite line:

"Smash!"

The Hulk grinned his toothy grin and ran, stomping towards the facility, where already screams of rage could be heard, echoing across the dried expanse along with the sound of gun-fire and the sharp metallic thump of Thor's hammer.

Meanwhile, he, Hawkeye and Black Widow readied the ammunition, strapping the heavy landing explosives together that Natasha had skilfully crafted herself, who was at this moment tying and retying her precious creations to each other, making sure they were positioned with the trap doors in the jet's floor. Clint was checking the comm's, darkly chuckling at Tony's sarcastic remarks or triumphant cheers about something 'awesome' the Hulk had done, still after nearly 40 missions together, amazed at the sheer destructive force of the Jackal to Dr Banner's Hyde.

Right on cue there was a colossal boom in which a shower of rubble flew into the desert sending a cloud of red dust up in the air, through which could be seen Abomination flying backwards and Thor tacking him to the ground…on the wrong side of the compound. Hulk was not far behind, wielding a chunk of debris as a weapon, tumbling into the other monster sending pounding roars across the great expanse of land. Tony was then seen trying to force the two of them back towards the base, sending small missiles into the back of Blonsky which was to no avail.

"Shit" cursed Clint, who suddenly jumped behind the steering of the jet.

"We need to push them to the other side, it'll be too easy for them to get to the city if we don't, can't risk another repeat of Harlem." shouted Natasha over the howling wind of the drop door coming though the jet.

Clint positioned them right behind the Abomination who at this point was using Iron Man as a weapon, pummelling the Hulk with him, who was obviously trying to catch his friend. He let of a few rounds into the grey beast, moving around him as he spun, throwing his arms out to catch the jet. Thor was once again trying to thunder him back into the compound, only getting a few meters back from their previous position. Clint once again opened fire, but could not avoid the projectile thrown at them; Tony. He came crashing through the windscreen and into the cargo bay, stopped only inches from Natasha's delicate explosive device by Steve grabbing a metal arm and dragging him into the cockpit.

"Phew, nice save there Cap, I'm not quite ready to be the finale for the fourth of July" Tony joked, his tiny voice from behind his seriously damaged helmet.

Suddenly a massive greyish green hand appeared before them, grabbing the nose of the jet and spinning it round into the Hulk that flew backwards into the heap of rubble. The jet managed to stay in flight, hovering only inches above the destroyed base until the Abomination dived on top of them, leaving hardly any time for the group to make a quick jump out of the back of the jet. Tony grabbed the super-spies by their harnesses, dropping them feet first on to a large piece of concrete, Steve was just behind until he was thrown right into the central control panel back first, knocking the wind out of him as the jet was punched through the ceiling of the main detainment facility, or what was left of it.

For a few brief moments the only noise Steve could hear was the settling of falling rubble before hearing a deep grumble and heavy, ominous footsteps coming towards him. Finding his bearings, Steve clambered over the wreckage of the jet, shield in hand, trying to ignore the sting of a few deep cuts to his chest where bits of shrapnel from the plane had perforated his armour. He needed to get Blonsky away from the jet, knowing that any other damage to the fuselage would trigger the explosives. He was making good speed, heading further North into the facility, when a deafening roar echoed in the empty building, momentarily distracting Steve. That moment was all it needed as the wall adjacent to him shattered out of the way of a huge closed fist, making way for the grotesque body that followed. It was just the two of them now, he had lost communication with the rest of the team, not knowing where they were set him on edge, the plan now completely in tatters. The Abomination was gradually edging closer, Steve glanced behind him, seeing that there was a thick, solid wall coming up closer and closer. He knew that if he was going to try and talk Blonsky down, this would be his only chance.

"Blonsky! Captain Blonsky, look, this is a hell of a situation you've got yourself in here…we just want to help you…nobody else has to get hurt, just stop this madness and turn back – you can do that right? Turn back?" Steve asked, both hopeful and scared out of his mind. This thing sure as hell didn't look like the Hulk, it looked like something right out of a nightmare, but the large figure paused momentarily, as if considering Cap's question.

"WHY TURN BACK?! I HAVE POWER!" Screamed the Abomination.

'_Well, this is not going the way I imagined"_ thought Steve, trying to stop the shiver running up his spine.

"We can help you control that power, use it for something good!" replied the Cap, his hope of the situation being back under control edging away as the creature thudded closer and closer to him.

"I HAVE CONTROL, I USE IT!"

With a roar he swung a huge, green fist at Steve, which reverberated off his shield, sending him crashing through the wall and into the adjoining room and the Abomination backwards, further into the rubble and fuselage of the jet, the crash momentarily followed by the rumble of detonating explosives and a final roar of pure anguish. Just as Steve slowly stood up from his collision course, the speeding flames flooded into the room, catching light on fallen hospital equipment and dividers, spreading quickly. Steve scouted for a path out, the smoke getting thicker by the second, spotted bags of liquid and what looked like blood on the floor, however, before he could even comprehend what this meant, the room was filled by a sudden stifling heat and promptly exploded, flinging Steve back out into the warehouse, hitting his head, hard on a sharp piece of rubble.

He could feel the injuries already trying to heal, but beneath that a startling coldness seeping through him, fighting it off, he opened his eyes to see the very grimy and concerned face of Natasha looking down at him followed by Clint, Thor and Tony.

"Where's…Bruce?" Steve asked noticing their missing team member.

"Oh, he's trying to find something to cover his…modesty" Tony said, smirking.

"That was a really stupid move there Cap" chimed in Clint, offering hand-up to their leader.

"Yeah, well, Banner was right, I had to improvise, sort of had my back against the wall there for a minute, at least Natasha's explosives worked." Steve winced, his wounds were taking there sweet time healing today.

"You're Welcome" the spy said, then muttering something in Russian causing her partner to choke a down a laugh.

After finding Bruce a medical coat that wasn't overly singed or tattered in the destruction of the base, a recovery and clean up team arrived that took the team back to HQ, who wearily reported back to Coulson and Fury before heading there separate way for post-mission warm down.

Tony caught up with Steve in the hallway of the Command Centre before stepping onto the elevator.

"Hey man, we did good today huh? Despite y'know destroying a multi-million dollar facility and the jet…but they weren't mine, so I don't feel guilty…hey, you feeling okay? You don't look so hot?" Tony asked, placing a steadying hand on Steve's still uniformed shoulder.

"What? Oh, yeah, just a little stiff, from the fight, I'll be fine in a jiff" Steve replied quickly, brushing off Tony's concern, echoing his own thoughts at the back of his mind.

"Good, because Pepper would have your ass otherwise, she's been going on and on about this event tonight, saying she'll finally have someone 'civilized' to talk to! The nerve right!?" Tony joked, slapping a friendly hand on Steve's back, causing him to wince slightly, unnoticed by his companion.

'_The charity event, I almost forgot!' _Thought Steve, inwardly groaning, all he wanted at this very moment was a nice hot shower and his bed.

"Yeah, of course, wouldn't miss it." Lied Steve

"Cool, be there or be square" Tony quipped before stepping off at his floor, "Actually, be there or Pep will literally come up here herself and drag you by your shiny, shiny bootstraps", he mock saluted right before the elevator doors closed, causing Steve's spirits to lift a little.

Steve slowly made his way to his apartment, pulling off his blood stained stars and striped top, standing in front of the bathroom mirror to assess the damage. It was the worst he had ever seen himself; there was a long, deep tear on his right side along with a few shorter contusions that bled profusely. His abdomen was already starting to bruise angrily, deep purple blotches pooling under his skin. In this light he also managed to get a look at his face, torn up a little, but healing quickly, unlike the rest of him. Every time he moved, the wounds would stop healing and tear open again, sending shockwaves of agony coursing through him. His head was spinning, a white, hot pain settling between his eyes, causing the light to become too bright, burning into him.

'_Something's not right' _Steve thought, starting to panic he dug through the draws in search of the first aid kit; not that he ever really needed it, but Darcy and Pepper forced him to keep it just in case.

'_Guess they were right, always are'_

With a shaky hand he managed to thread a needle with the medical stitching wire, silently cursing when the needle pieced his torn skin. Taking his time, he stitched up the deeper wounds, feeling some relief when the skin was closer together, the wound needing less effort to try and repair the damage. The cleaned himself up, adding a few bandages to the other side of his torso where the lesser scrapes and cuts were, already feeling a little better than before.

Getting dressed in a well-fitting grey suit, dark blue tie and shiny black shoes, Steve started to feel human again, trying to scrub the events from the afternoon from his mind. He met Tony and Pepper in the lobby of Avengers Tower, the pair looking as fancy as ever, Tony looking dashing in a dark blue three piece suit and tie, and Pepper in a gorgeous emerald dress, her red hair cascading around her shoulders. They met Steve warmly as Happy ushered them into the car, Tony offering Steve a celebratory glass of very expensive Champaign, despite the face it would have absolutely no effect.

'_Maybe it won't be such a bad night after all' _He thought, listening to Tony's impressions of Thor and the tinkling laughter of Pepper, as carefree and happy as he'd seen her in a long while.

They soon arrived at the Waldorf Hotel, to an expanse of red carpet and flash of photographers, Tony went off, corralling the crowds whilst Pepper took Steve's arm, smiling at him and rolling her eyes at her partner.

The night started off well, the tacky business men were at an all-time low, the speech givers minimal, and he only got his ass pinched by an older woman twice, both of which made him flush bright red, causing Pepper to giggle and profusely apologize. The night was made better the arrival of Colonel Rhodes, whom had struck up a great rapport with Steve and had an on-going banter over the old argument Army vs. Air Force.

A few hours in and only two embarrassing dances, one with Pepper, who Tony said can make any man look good no matter his 'skills' on the dance floor, Steve was starting to feel that chill creeping up his spine and a cold flush on his forehead. His palms were beginning to sweat and he was trembling as he nonchalantly pressed his hand to his side, feeling a hot wetness coming from underneath his shirt. The stitches had come undone and blood was seeping out from under the dressing he's so pain-snakingly applied hours before. Steve politely excused himself from the clutches of some millionaire's daughter pressing his hand more tightly into his side to prevent more blood loss. Tony, who had been watching this exchange with glee, noticed his friend's speedy exist, heading towards the bathroom…without the blonde.

Steve found the men's room thankfully empty as he shed his suit jacket, the lining of which was already drenched in blood and seeping through his white button down. Tearing open the buttons he gazed in horror at the gruesome sight before him – he was bleeding. Everywhere. He wasn't healing. For the first time in a long time he felt weak. He could feel his legs giving way as he fell to the floor. He felt like the old Steve, the scrawny kid from Brooklyn who didn't know how to pick a fight.

'_I guess some things never change' _He thought, feeling, once again that white hot pain in his head, suddenly registering the sound of footsteps on the marble floor of the men's room.

"Steve, come on man, it's not that bad out there to be hiding out in the – OH MY GOD!" proclaimed Tony as he rounded the curse of the wall to the bathroom.

Steve was lying on the floor in a huge puddle of his own blood, pale and weakened, huge gashes covering his body and his dark blonde hair matted in red in a clump to the side.

"Steve! Steve, come on buddy, you've got to heal" Pleaded Tony, kneeling down next to him, staining his suit.

"I…Can't…try…Something's wrong." rasped Steve, clutching his chest.

"It's going to be okay buddy, alright, help's coming" he said quickly, getting out his phone and dialling 911 "you're going to be okay"

At this point Pepper walked in, gasping at the sight in front of her;

"Oh my god! Steve! What the hell happened?"

"It's from the fight earlier, he's not healing, I don't have time to get a S.H.E.L.D MedEvac here so they're just going to have to handle it when we get to the hospital" Tony replied to Pepper in between talking to the EMT's on the line.

"Tony…" Steve rasped again, covering his hand with his own blood-soaked one, "Tony…I'm sorry"

The other man could see where he was going with this, and really didn't want to hear a Captain McGuilt-Fest America speech whilst he was bleeding out in his arms on the floor of the men's room.

"No, don't you dare okay? I don't want to hear any of that crap coming from you do you understand me? Just rest until the EMT's get here, you're going to be okay Steve do you hear me? Steve?"

Steve, however, did not hear him. Seconds before his heart had just stopped beating for the second time in his long life and he felt nothing, finally but the warmth he had been trying to find in the icy darkness, oblivious to where he was going and what lay ahead.


	6. Chapter 6

Hi Everyone! I'd just like to say thank-you again for the positivity towards this piece! Sorry the latest instalment is just that – late! I've been on a very buy internship in London and haven't had any time to write. Hope you enjoy it; the next couple of chapters is coming tomorrow!

Chapter 6:

(Steve's POV)

After the sudden disappearance of his new 'friend' Artie, Steve decided not to take the old man's advice and follow Dr Alexander, but to stay with his body. It was still so strange to see himself this way – lying there, unaware and unresponsive; he can't even remember the last time he didn't have to be always on alert. Even before the trial he was always looking over his shoulder; a skinny kid in a bad neighbourhood – he was always the target of someone or another. Here, now, lying in that hospital bed, although scarred and bruised, he looked…peaceful. All traces of worry were wiped from his face; his hands weren't curled in fists, his eyes closed without having to see the painful memories that surfaced every time he fell asleep.

'_All the memories are here…' _Thought Steve, looking down at his hands, and then back to the ones on his body, still feeling very displaced.

The room was very quiet, save the constant beeping of the heart monitor; Steve had noticed that Darcy's fingers were drumming along the wooden arm-rest of the hospital chair in the corner of the room, the other loosely clasping a sleeping Jane's hand, whose head was resting on Thor's sturdy shoulder. Clint and Natasha were sat on the window sills; Clint was napping, his head resting on the frame, Natasha intently staring at Steve, as if she was willing him to wake up. Pepper and Tony had hardly moved, still sat at the foot of the bed, their hands entwined, Pepper had her eyes closed, her head resting on the back wall whilst Tony, like Tasha, was looking at his fallen friend before him. He knew that look on Tony's face, he'd seen it the previous year following the Manhattan Attack, a deep, distant look of hidden horror – Tony was slipping. It pained Steve to see him this way, especially after the terrific year he'd been having; proposing to Pepper, getting the Arc Reactor taken out, turning the tower into a home for the whole team; it was the family he'd always wanted, the family everyone else needed. Phil was sat in the same seat as well, scrolling through something on his phone, every now and again, a small smile coming to his lips; _'Ah, The Cellist'_ thought Steve, smiling at the fun the team got out of teasing Coulson about his love life with a woman, whose real name was only known to Pepper, and everyone else would make absurd guesses to her actual identity, the latest being Darcy's guess of 'Agnes' who has a huge wart between her eyes. Bruce, however, was nowhere to be seen, the chart he'd been looking at before had been placed on a metal rack on the end of his bed, and he could just make out the sweeping yet neat signature of Dr Alexander on the page.

Steve's mind then drifted to the doctor, she'd seemed so sure and understanding, she was clear yet compassionate at the same time, plus she had kind eyes. She saved his life, brought him back from the brink multiple times; she was the reason he was here, and not down in the morgue like Artie's new arrival. He could still picture her; wisps of chocolate brown hair, the tiny gold studs in perfectly shaped ear lobes, the silhouette of her heart-shaped face, he could even feel the ghost of her touch where she'd gently placed the IV. He didn't know why he was thinking of her so much, only that he knew he didn't want another doctor, he wanted her…or should he say, he wanted her to treat him. She did save his life after all, she was a good doctor. With that thought, Steve looked up, expecting to see himself in the hospital bed, only to see that he was no longer in his original place; he'd moved.

The room he was in now was dimly lit by two or three scattered lamps in a cluttered room filled with books, picture frames and other knick-knacks. The floor was polished wood, and the walls were mainly exposed brick and pipe, reminding him of the three-storey walk-ups in Brooklyn. It was an open plan living space with an old, scratched dining table and two miss-matched chairs, a large, worn leather sofa and a rather beaten looking dark green velvet armchair, that had small tears in the seams that had been stitched up with bright pink coloured thread sat randomly placed around the space. The main wall was completely covered in filled book-shelves, the books stacked on top of each other, a mixture of factual and fiction, more the former than latter, mainly consisting of medical research and text books. On one of the shelves was an old-fashioned grey's anatomy porcelain head showing the different sections of the brain, however this one had a fake mustache stuck to its top lip and a surgical cap tied on to its top.

'_Medical stuff…this must be the doctor's house!' _

Steve suddenly felt very awkward, like he was breaking and entering into someone's home; even if he did just magically appear here without intending to. Quickly walking across the room, stepping over piles of books and medical journals as he went, Steve quietly opened the door of the apartment hoping to make a speedy exit only to find he was propelled backwards, some force stopping him from leaving. He tried and tried to no avail, until finally giving up and sitting down on the sofa, contemplating his next move. He was being as quiet as possible, to hear if there was anyone home; and could make out the dulled sound of the opening and closing of draws down the hallway. Just as he was about to go and investigate, someone appeared from behind one of the doors, a young woman in pyjama bottoms, atank top and a hoodie, wet, dark hair atop of her head, face scrubbed clean but with dark circles under her eyes. It was Dr Alexander. She looked different this way, less reserved, softer, and definitely more tired. She padded her way to the kitchen, her socked feet sliding along the smooth floor, breaking out into a skid and promptly stopping in front of the fridge. She seriously considered its contents for a moment or two, tapping her small foot on the floor as she did before reaching in and grabbing the carton of milk, a bowl from the next cupboard and a box of cereal, which had been placed so far back in the cupboard above her head, she had to stand on her tip-toes to reach it, which Steve had to admit, was very cute. Smiling at her victory after fixing her snack, the doctor then began walking towards Steve, looking directly at him. He looked over his shoulder, realising there was nothing there, suddenly feeling very exposed to be sat in a strange woman's house, who was very under-dressed, without invitation. She, however, seemed to take no notice of him flopping down on the other end of the sofa, stretching her legs out on the coffee table and turning on the TV. She flicked through a couple of channels before settling on something, laying down the remote and starting her cereal.

At that moment another figure appeared, this time a man, with tanned skin, dark, curly hair and a slight beard, also wearing PJ's _'Maybe her boyfriend?' _Thought Steve.

He sat down in the armchair which was directly next to Steve, picking up his phone from the coffee table and swiftly typing out a reply to a text message. The man then looked over at the doctor, and then to the TV and asked:

"What are we watching tonight then?"

Dr Alexander waited a beat, still chewing a bit of her late night snack; "Hoarders".

"Ughh yes! That show makes me feel good about my bad life choices in comparison to the people on it! Plus the voice over guy's voice is deep and sexy" He said a hint of laughter in his voice.

'_Okay, maybe not her boyfriend'_

The doctor chuckled; "Yeah, but looking at the state of our apartment I'd say we're probably the next candidates."

The guy laughed, then a moment later, let out a deep, heavy sigh. Suddenly all traced of fun had been wiped from his face, and replaced with one that was torn between sadness and tiredness.

"Yeah buddy, I know, it's been a hell of a day" said Dr Alexander, looking over at the man sympathetically.

"I had to get all the transfer patients sorted out tonight, they all wanted to know why they were leaving, I had no idea what to tell them, the Men in Black were crawling all over the place it was freaking me out – didn't you have to resuscitate the guy they brought in?" asked the man, leaning forwards in his chair.

"Yeah…three times actually. It was pretty bad, can't tell you much about it though, I had to sign a mountain of non-disclosures!" Replied Dr Alexander

"Wonder who the guy is? I heard rumors that Tony Stark was with him and that he brought out the whole of the ICU just for the guy, Macie in OBG was saying it was his secret brother or something?"

"Haha! Well, I don't know about Tony Stark…or the brother thing, but he did buy out the ICU until he recovers, practically has his own private army and surgical staff on hand up there, I'm sure Dr Stanton will debrief us all on shift tomorrow" replied the doctor, yawning into the back of her hand "speaking of, I have to be back at the hospital in….8 hours, so I'm going to bed, night!"

"Night" replied the guy distantly, who one last time checked his phone, and seeing there were no messages, picked it up and padded towards the direction of his room, turning back a final time, almost looking his invisible visitor in the eye, and turning off the lights.

"Oh Great" Steve exclaimed, realising he was sitting alone, in the dark, in his doctor's apartment. Just as he thought he was stuck there, a door suddenly opened in front of his, one that had not previously been there before, and there emerged the smiling face of Artie Hopper, his eyes bright behind his thick frames. Steve was, once again, very confused.

"Ah, yes, I thought I heard you muttering in here, don't worry it's a little hard to find your bearings the first time" He said, opening the door fully to reveal an empty hospital hallway.

"But…I was just…"

"-At the doctor lady's house yeah, yeah, and now you're in the janitor's closet!" Interrupted Artie, beckoning Steve to vacate the upturned bucket he'd been sat on and join him outside.

"Okay…well that was…different." said Steve, his eyes adjusting to the bright lights of the hospital hallway.

"So, did you learn anything? What was it like?" Asked Artie, smiling and with a trace of curiosity in his crackly voice.

"Umm…well, she lives with a male nurse I think…we didn't have them in my day! And she's not the tidiest of people either, that and she eats cereal for dinner" Steve mentioned, smiling at remembering Dr Alexander reaching for the cereal box on her toes.

"Right…so you learned…nothing, oh well, not to matter you'll have plenty of time. And hey, what do you mean in 'your day', you can't be any older than thirty!" Artie questioned, giving Steve a sweep from head to toe.

"Yeah, Artie, like you said…plenty of time, I'll tell you later. Right now, I just really want to get back to my friends."

"Yeah…Okay Steve, I'll see'ya around"

Artie looked suspiciously at Steve as he walked away, realising now that he somehow looked familiar. He had no idea what brought Steve to him, usually he's either connected to a person in one way or another, or had some kind of similar experience in his life to theirs. Steve Rogers was a complexity that he just couldn't wrap his mind around. For a ghost, that boy just wasn't very transparent.


End file.
